WHITE BEACH
by Hamid lawnmower
Summary: A novel rapped around the events of the invasion of earth. following the elite UNSC 2nd Shock TRooper company not another ODST parody  and thier fights in and around the pacific.


PROLOUGE

1243 hours, 25th October 2552, during fifth day of First battle of Earth, aboard UNSC Endeavour, above White beach, Pelileu Island, Pacific Ocean.

Private Bob Lloyd gulped; it was like Reach all over again: Swarms of Covenant ships floating in the atmosphere, readying their excavation beams while helpless UNSC soldiers watched from the surface. Except only one Covenant ship lingered, 300 meters above the surface. 20 kilometers from the port bow of the UNSC Endeavour. It was a CCS class cruiser, bristling with torpedoes, pulse lasers and plasma charges. It could gut the Phoenix-class colony ship in two, but for some amazing, almost unnatural reason, it just hung their. Its gravity beam that protruded from its hull shone a bright purple, it went down 297 meters to the loading area. The Landing site was a 20 meter in diameter circle that rose several meters high above the ground inshore from White Beach.

White beach disappeared to the east as it rose to a cliff face and then a mountain almost 300 feet hidden under the brush of rainforest, somewhere hidden in their was a Covenant artillery fortification, which would render a water-based naval assault useless, a single landing craft could not get within fifty meters of the shore without being blasted to tiny fragments. And the UNSC had no water-based navy after the glassing of most of the naval-bases in the Pacific Ocean. The Covenant saw the water-based fleet as a threat to their ground operations, as the Covenant was not water-oriented in any way. Of course who needs boats when you can just glass the planet form the sky.

Bob sighed, and in almost submissive way admitted that he and every one else aboard the ship was screwed. Well, at least he wasn't going to be burned alive…yet. As a member of the UNSC Marine Corps he was generally referred to as a 'swabbie'. Even though he was not naval, he was half naval-half ground. And so, operated on many different surfaces, personally preferring the muddy rainforests of Pelileu Island than the iron-clad hull of a UNSC ship. Many years ago, when there was no MA5 series of rifles or Pelican dropships, thousand of marines from the US First Marine Division landed on the beautiful white-sanded White Beach. In terms of scale of casualties, it was one of the most devastating battles of the Second World War for an Island and operation of its size.

He breathed deeply, mustering all the courage this war hadn't stripped him of. The pelican known as Zulu 112 descended from the hull of the UNSC Endeavour, followed by tens of other forms of air transport. The majority of 2nd Shock Trooper Company of the First Marine Expeditionary division descended from the skies in an almost heavenly matter, as if descending from the lap of God. The 2nd Shock Trooper Company were fabled among the UNSC, most of them were former ODSTs or veterans, in fact all of them had served more than twenty years in the Corps, they were nicknamed the 'Old Daggers'. Two hundred and ninety men sat in their transports in relative silence, contemplating the battle to come and the battles after that if they survived.

The silence was broken by three sudden and huge bursts of plasma fire. Everyone's heart raced, except for the flight crews who got used to thousands of aliens wanting them down on the ground, where they could rip them apart and feed them to Jackals. To the Covenant Jackals of course, Earth had been stripped of most wildlife, almost each city on earth had a nature reserve, but not Pelileu Island, which pretty much had no civilian occupants. Deep in the mountains was a huge underground bunker system known as ONI Facility AC223. Colloquially known as the only reasons the Covenant had to be on Pelileu Island.

One single lucky plasma bolt managed to hit the right rear engine of Zulu 112, the blast shook the hell out of the hull of the Pelican dropship. The pilot was somehow able to pray and try to regain control of the ship at the same time. Bob didn't need any prayers, he wasn't very religious anyways, and simply shrugged of the chaos and imminent death that waited. The ship kept spinning and shaking, the hull shuddered at the friction force, and it felt like the dropship was going to rip itself apart. Which it did, unfortunately the line of division that split it in two was just in front of Bob's seat. Thousands of shards split and fluttered away, the other part of the ship which contained the cockpit blew off, taking several men with it before exploding midair.

Bob closed his eyes as his seat ripped apart from the hull; he was thrown at over 100km/h into the air. The seat kept flying. Luckily, stowed under it was a parachute set. Bob fought the massive G forces as he grabbed it, He used every ounce of his strength to unzip it, he felt his own arm was going to rip apart as well and join the battered and smoldering remains of Zulu 112. Despite the fact that he was now only so many meters above the surface, the action of releasing his safety harness made him love the engineers who decided to conveniently place the parachute under his seat. However, as the chute released he realized that it would only slow him down by just over 10 km/h. Which meant the landing would probably crush his legs, sending his shin bone up into his thighs.

Bob just so happened to want his legs and so adjusted the chute so he could make a flared landing, hitting the ground running, and probably rolling. The marine saw other Pelicans discharge other soldiers on the surface, most fell to the instant barrage of fire, one even managed to have both his arms shot off simultaneously. Bob almost forgot about the fact he was barreling in at 70km/h. Bob pushed the lines down and braced, his trajectory was just lower than 20 degrees.

His luck, and supposed parachuting skills saved his life. The landing was hard, he hit the sand running, and his feet tried to catch up but could not. He gave up running and covered his head; he slammed on the surface. Bob kept rolling violently, his landing kicked up hell of a sand storm. He eventually slowed down fifty meters forward of the planned landing zone. Bob's vision was shrouded with stars, his lungs heaved and his legs felt numb. He wanted to keep going, but what seemed like after an eternity of futile resistance, his mind and body gave out. The last thing he heard was plasma fire sizzling on the sand near him; he heard every grain of sand melt and burn into glass. Bob was almost sure he was either dead or dying, either way he frankly didn't care.

CHAPTER 1

1623 hours, 21st October 2552, one day after invasion of Earth, 100 meters underground in ONI Facility AC223, Pelileu Island, Pacific Ocean.

/Encryption code: RED/

/1623 21 Oct 2552/

/From: Captain Veronica (121)/

/To: Codename Mailman (178)/

/Status: green/Open message/

/*EYES ONLY*/

121/Intel has been confirmed, Covenant fleet is enroute. Authorization to bring up AC223 to Red Alert?

178/Affirmative, proceed to level up maximum security.

121/Roger on that, but that's not why I'm on this island Mailman.

178/Well, Veronica with all due respect, everyone knows that your not one for Intel, correct?

121/True, the latter is correct but not everyone knows me.

178/Please, don't complicate things.

121/ I try, I'll get to the point, I have confirmed reports from legitimate sources, the Covenant are searching for something, they landed on Mombassa, and aren't glassing it.

178/ Yes, we've encountered strange Covenant behavior recently, nothing too new.

121/ Oh but it is. I'm sending you my report and related imagery now

/Encrypting…Verification confirmed./

/Open file

178/ Wow, how long ago did you find this?

121/ Not long, very similar to artifact found on Sigma Octanus, and look were that led the Pillar of Autumn to, Halo, this must be excavated.

178/ Symbols look like co-ordinates, do you think they'll led us to a third Halo?

121/ possibly, or maybe it will lead us to what the Covenant are searching for?

178/ Doubt it, what's your proposal?

121/ The Covenant are at Pelileu Island, they have it, we have to deny them that kind of Intel.

178/We have nothing.

121/Correction, the Navy has nothing; I'm not talking about sending a Carrier group to bomb the hell out of it.

178/ Than what? Don't tell me you want another ODST team?

121/ No, they would perish too quickly. I need something that can be deployed quickly, they have to be competent and efficient.

178/ I have in mind one unit. 2nd Shock Trooper Company, First Marine Expeditionary Division, they are veterans, otherwise known as the Old Daggers, fought on Harvest and Reach. So far, only twenty casualties.

121/ Wow? These guys are marines correct?

178/ Marine? They are as marine as you can get, green to the core. They trace back all the way to the United States 7th Marine Division back in 1944.

121/ Amazing. What's there HQ?

178/ Wow, I didn't know you were so oblivious, you're a Intel lady, and I'm a Intel man, you should know were the are stationed.

121/ Sorry, I haven't been up to date recently on the Pacific, just got relived from duty in the Sahara, brutes love that place, sandy and hot.

178/ Ok, sure. Back to the subject, the 2nd Shock Trooper Company is situated in Okinawa. Most made it out when the Covenant bombed it, they are now safely tucked away on the UNSC Endeavour; they can be deployed to the coast of White Beach in 24 hours.

121/ Ok, bring them in, keep the mission on a need to know basis; they are there to retake our land. That's all.

178/ Sure. I'll see you soon.

121/ Yep, oh and one more thing.

178/What is it?

121/ Semper fi.

/1624 21 Oct 2552/

/Session shut down/

/End Transmission/

/Close file/

1250 hours, 5th October 2552, during fifth day of First battle of Earth, White beach, Pelileu Island, Pacific Ocean.

Bob woke up seven minutes later, spitting out sand as he got up. He blanked out for a moment, not knowing why he was even here. The gun fire, blood and sand reminded him. To kick ass. He crouched and raised his weapon, a M123 Designated Marksman Rifle, or DMR. The safety was clicked off, the counter read '12', so he had a full magazine. He lay prone when he saw a plasma turret in the distant bear down on him. _Dammit_ he thought as sizzling purple bolts slashed the sand around him. He look around, half covered in sand. The beach was ruined, craters riddled the landscape, most of the sand was red hot, and he spotted two downed Hornets, and the remains of the cockpit of Zulu 112.

The cockpit was still visible, but heavily crushed and mangled, with wires dangling out, while it burned. Bob spotted one of the pilots sprawled on the ground near it, minus his legs plus a pool of red blood and gore. Barbed wire was placed almost clumsily around the shore; boulders and rocks were crumbled and destroyed. About 100 feet up ahead was the first line of Covenant defenses, three Shade stationary turrets, four Wraiths, two were Anti-Aircraft variants while the other two were the default mortar tanks. In the midst of all that were two huge Anti-Aircraft cannons, their barrels curving out and extending about 12 meters. Of course, amongst all the machinery was a legion of Covenant infantry: Jackals, Elites, Hunters and the cannon fodder Grunts.

Bob Lloyd also spotted the rest of 2nd Shock Trooper Company; they were all lying prone and/or crouching behind various assortments of cover, rocks, fallen trees and downed planes. He spat the sand out of his mouth and ran, sprinting and dodging the plasma bolts. Almost every Covenant soldier was firing on him; one green bolt got him in the right thigh. Bob screamed as a wave of pain rippled through his leg while the plasma had burned through his composite light armor plating, but reached his skin. Luckily it missed any important arteries or veins. He screamed as he fell, the sand was warm and comforting. He clenched his jaw, baring his teeth as he fought the pain and crawled through the sand.

Five men rushed over to him and hauled him up. Two carried him away while the rest provided covering fire. One marine, a handsome machine gunner was shot twice in the chest. He fell in a heap; the plasma scoring had reached his lungs and putt him out of battle, permanently. That was the thirtieth causality so far, this was turning out to be one of the worst engagements the heroic and mythical (at least that's what they were looked upon as by other UNSC personnel) 2nd Shock Trooper Company. Bob was carefully put down near a fallen palm tree, it was black, and no leaves were left on it.

A medic shouted something and another marine brought a Med Pac, it was a military standard issue. An Optican Medical gel canister, usually used by civilians but exclusively by the UNSC Marine Corps. The Medic applied the Gel to Bob's thigh, he added some Biofoam and Pain killers. Soon Bob was back in action, albeit more clumsy and slow. The plasma kept flying overhead, it was suicide to try even to pop your head up to take a peek, which was proven when one marine did and had his head blow up.

Scattered orders were rallied through out the Company, most never reached their designated persons. Even though every UNSC marine was issued with helmets capable of radio access, the Covenant here had more sophisticated machinery; they used their supercomputer organisms, known by ONI as engineers to transmit a frequency which blocked out all non-Covenant transmissions. After six minutes of hiding beneath the palm tree a Radio Tech arrived. He was hauling a large radio pack; it was UNSC specialized; only the best Radio-geeks had the skills to operate it.

It took another half dozen minutes to crack the frequency, but due to the scale of it, they had only fifteen seconds to transmit their messages. The radio technician blurted out a short-burst message, "This is Dagger 28, requesting heavy fire support on co-ordinates Alpha, Beta and Echo. Dagger 28 out," The co-ordinates Alpha, Beta and Echo were all highlighted electronically. No reply was returned; it seemed like eternity before the jet engine screams of six Longsword Fighters blasted above White Beach, their shadows cast upon an almost angelic image. Everyone hit the deck, covering their heads; the ground thundered in response, Bob counted over twenty dull thumps before the shaking seized. Small specks on debris rained down in a crisscrossing motion. No one was injured.

Slowly the Old Daggers came out from cover, most just stood their gasping at the scene. Bob's eyes were wide open, his mouth was gaping as he stood aghast to the mayhem and destruction those pilots just caused. They Covenant position was no longer a barricade, instead it was a black moonscape, small fires burned what ever was left, blood and bits of flesh were scattered around accompanied by smoldering pieces of metal and mutilated bodies. They all stood their, admiring the horrific scene, if there were survivors, most were black and burned and mangled, trying to crawl back to safety, but the Covenant had left them selves no where to run.

The radio techs pack came to life, along with everyone else's, some one on board the UNSC Endeavour said. "Target destroyed, I repeat all targets eliminated. Estimated deaths are over two thousand with many more injured and dying. All ground defenses eradicated." Those words pulsed through everyone's heads. The Captain ordered over the frequency, "Ok boys, move forward, spread out in scattered formation, watch for survivors and keeps your eyes peeled. Go, go, go!" The Old Daggers slowly advanced, peering into craters, trees anything that could hide a possible survivor. Bob looked to his left as three marines laughed; they were looking down on a Jackal, it was blackened and had scars and pieces of shrapnel stuck in its scaly skin. It waved its hands in a begging motion. The Three marines continued laughing; they started kicking it and spitting.

Bob decided it was enough; he raised his Battle rifle and shot the jackal in the head. The other marines said something about 'ruining our fun' but Bob ignored and continued. The 2nd Shock Trooper Company walked for over and hour, there was nothing left to kill, capture or destroy. Soon they were ordered to stand down and prepare a LZ. The latter order took a while to accomplish, but by 1324 hours, the entire Company had set up base with whatever they could salvage. Bob was sitting in a foxhole smoking a Cuban cigar when what seemed like a 7 magnitude earthquake shook the earth; everyone raised their weapons and jumped out form cover, expecting a massive Covenant army advancing towards them, all blood-thirsty for revenge.

Instead of that, emerging from the clouds to the east was the UNSC Endeavour, it came thundering down. The force blew out most of the makeshift tents and even threw a couple of marines off their feet. The Colony ship slowed and rested directly above the 'camp'. It was one of the many Phoenix-class Colony ships converted for military use when the war started. Its luxury facilities were replaced with ammo stores, mess-halls and barracks. It was equipped with Battle plate and a single MAC cannon plus Archer missile pods and 50mm Auto cannons. It also had the equipment required to build and maintain a UNSC base.

Soon its lower doors opened and a its full force of eleven M808B Scorpion tanks, thirty M12 and M12G1 Warthogs, six Cobra Artillery units and three Elephant command platforms were unloaded. As an addition to this, its remaining air support force of thirty four Dropship 77 troop carrier Pelicans, eighteen AV4 Hornets and ten Shortsword bombers were also unloaded. Soon it started to drop its 'Pods', which were essentially ships that had four huge engines, they dropped off the buildings and supplies needed to form a full-scale Alpha-class UNSC base. Bob and the marines didn't need to help with the job, they were resting as the roots of what was soon to be called Fort Pelileu were being grown.

Sunrise next morning, October 26th 2552, Room 5, Barrack 4C, Fort Pelileu, 300 feet inshore from White Island.

Bob fired again, his rifle kicked back as the armour piercing, fin stabilizing discarding sabot round spat out form his SRS99C-S2 AMB Sniper Rifle. The round flew straight and drew, piercing the crown of the alien skull, just below the eyes. It dug in several centimeters into the skull and brain before exploding. The back of the Elite's head released tiny bits of blood and tissue from a gaping hole 5cm in diameter. The shot killed the elite instantly; his heart beat for the last time. Bob aimed again, at another elite, he was taller than the rest, clad in golden armour that reflected his stature and position in the Covenant hierarchy.

The elite seemed unaware of his fellow dead combatant, instead he just looked at the body and coked his head, it took a while but soon his eyes widened explosively then he dived to his right, a fraction of a second faster then the bullet. Bob aimed again, this time for the torso, he fired and the round hit the elite dead center as soon as he got up. The force permanently disabled the elites shield but did little physical damage. Bob aimed one more time as the elite attempted to run, obviously hitting a moving target was harder than putting a bullet in a stationary one. Bob fired again and missed. He cursed under his breath as he reloaded; he aimed one last time, just before the elite reached cover and fired. The bullet caught the aliens arm and blew it off with such force that his body spun unnaturally quick.

Bob took a deep breath as he watched the blood spurt and pour out of the elite's body, soon a circle of purple liquid surrounded the alien, and Bob saw its mandibles twitch and its leg kick wildly. The mission was a success, Bob raised his rifle than slung it over his back, he drew his other weapon, a light suppressed M7S Sub Machine Gun and started running towards the extraction point. He kept running, as fast as he could before he heard the distinct wailing sound of a Banshee flier. He looked behind him, two Banshees were accelerating, Bob could do nothing but watch, he was in a barren wasteland, there was no cover.

He fired a bust from his SMG, not expecting much. Some how by mere luck, one bullet pierced the main energy valve causing it to catch fire, the whole vehicle was engulfed in blue chemical flames, it's cockpit opened and a burned corpse flew down. The flier plummeted and smacked into the ground. The other Banshee was still alive however, its pilot sprayed the ground with plasma bolts, and three hit Bob, two in the chest and one in the arm. The marine had no power to scream, the air was literarily pounded out of him. He fell to the floor; the Banshee fired its Fuel Rod cannon. The green superheated bolt arced downwards then slammed straight into…

Bob gasped; he sprung forward sweating like a pig. It was all a dream, a nightmare. _Thank god_ he muttered to himself, the rest of his fellow Old Daggers were still asleep. Bob decided to take advantage of the facilities luxuries while he still could. He retrieved a spare pare of camo pants as well as a gray shirt and underwear. He exited Room 5 and walked down the corridor, he saw one man putting a letter into the mail box. Bob himself had no one to write to. Not after his entire family, three children and a wife, were horrifically killed by Covenant on his first tour of duty. That gave him another reason among millions to hate the aliens. He walked around with confidence, he had extensive experience with Alpha-class Barrack facilities of the UNSC, nicknamed 'Air conditioners' for the fact that their were Air conditioning units in every square meter of the facility.

He reached the showers and set the water to 'hot'. The shower was a great liberty from all the mud and shrub on the island. After five minutes he dried off and exchanged his sweaty set for his new change of clothes. He put the dirty clothes in the laundry hole. He returned to the barracks, and to his surprise everyone was awake. One marine read the puzzled look on Bob's face and said, "The Brigadier General came in while you were washing up, helluva a way to wake up I tell 'ya. He bloody shot his M6 in the air, I almost gone shot him in surprise. We got to be at…" The marine paused, as if searching for something in his mind before continuing, "Briefing room 6D by o'eight hundred hours." He said in a British accent, as if mocking the General's voice.

Bob only nodded, the other marine looked puzzled, "What, you don't talk?" Then in a louder voice to the other marines "This guys a bloody mute." Some marines stared while others ignored him and returned to their respective activities. The marine which Bob first thought of as a friendly kind started making gestures with his hands as if imitating sign language; he then pointed the finger at Bob and said. "You know what this means!" He then burst out laughing, everyone else began chuckling. Bob had enough, he grabbed the marine by the throat and hauled him up on the wall, it was a blur of motion no one caught up with. Bob raised his fist to the marine's face, who had now soiled himself. "You're not worth it." Bob replied. He dropped the marine and glanced at his nametag, 'Pvt. Smith.

Everyone returned to their business, Pvt. Smith wasn't helped up by anyone. Bob checked the time, it was 0740 hours. He had 20 minutes before the meeting. He left Barracks 4C and explored the base. Next to his barracks were two others, and in front of the trio of buildings was a large air pad. Hornets and Pelicans were parked adjacent to one another. It took Bob several minutes to reach the other side of the air pad, and behind it were two large buildings. Bob guessed the one on the right was a armor facility and the building to the left was a power plant. He explored the base more and found two more power plants behind the armor facility, and stretching across the whole northern face was the command center. It was a colossal building, with warthogs racing around officers and supplies to their positions.

It was five to eight. Bob asked a technician for directions and soon, after some jogging and confusion Bob reached Briefing room 6D. It was a larger room than expected, it held almost every Old Dagger, and some were standing, while most where sitting. Bob wasn't late, or early. He was right on time. At the front of the room a short stocky uniformed man stood. He had grey hair and a cyborg replacement for his right leg. To his left were five seats all occupied by high-ranking officers. And behind them was a large TV screen with 3D display. It covered the entire back wall, as large as a cinema.

The man in front was Brigadier General Matthews, Bob eavesdropped. The woman sitting to his left was the 2nd Shock Trooper Company CO Lieutenant Major Vanessa Scott; she had hazel eyes, dark brown hair and feminine features. To her left was Captain Veronica or '121', whose face was shrouded in the shadows. Next to her sat three other men, they all seemed very secretive and wore ONI uniform. The crowd quieted down, the Brigadier General spoke first, "Ladies and Gentlemen of 2nd Shock Trooper Company, as you all know, you came to this Island and captured this beach for reasons _most _of you are unbeknownst of. You were not sent here just for territory or to defend the ONI facility, you were sent here because you are the best of the best."

He paused for a moment to let the words sink in. "Lieutenant Major Vanessa Scott was brought here with these orders: Land and capture the beach to secure a landing zone for a staging area and forward operating base. This was accomplished, and considering the fact that you were up against a covenant armada, with minimum casualties. You have been given a new mission, who will now be told of the true origins of this operation." He said, he looked at the crowd than pressed a button on a small remote hidden in his fist. The TV screen came to life, slowly a series of event were highlighted as he spoke.

"Not too long before the Fall of Reach, the Covenant seized the city of Corte D'Atuz, the capital of Sigma Octanus IV. The photo snapped to a rock with symbols carved deep in it. "This artifact was uncovered and placed in the Corte D'Atuz Museum for Natural History. The Covenant captured it during the battle for the city; they seemed extremely interested in it. Before High command ordered the city obliterated by a HAVOC tactical nuke, we managed to copy the symbols over it. One set were the co-ordinates for the planet Threshold, the other were for Reach."

"After Reach fell, the UNSC Pillar of Autumn escaped with all hands. They used the co-ordinates that led to Threshold from that artifact for their slipspace vector. And then they found Halo." He didn't have to explain anything about Halo. The entire UNSC was familiar with it, what it was built for and more famously its fate. Complete destruction. "When the Covenant landed on this Island, we assumed they were after the data in our ONI facility. We were wrong. They began a mass digging operation, until today, you've all been shown _this _map of Pelileu." A photo popped up, a bird's eye of the Island detailed the mountains, the coasts, cliffs and jungles as well as UNSC controlled space, Covenant territories and the ONI base.

"Well, we were lying. This is what Pelileu looks like now." Another photo snapped up, several people gasped at the picture. Half of the Island was no longer jungles; it was a massive hole as deep as one kilometer. The hole was lined red, masses of troops could be seen moving around it likes ants on an ant hill. And Instead of the single CCS cruiser, eleven more popped up. They were all massive Assault carriers. Bob was stunned at the photo. "They have been digging, and have found nothing but dirt and mud," Some people relaxed while others sighed in relief until he continued; "They also found this." Another photo came up, it was a rock…with symbols crisscrossing it…and it glowed a brilliant cyan. "This artifact is obviously identical in shape and texture to the other on which led the crew of The Pillar of Autumn to Halo."

"The Covenant have this artifact, and with their technology, they could decipher it within a minute, possibly in seconds. This means they probably have thousands of their ships enroute to where ever it leads as we speak. We must deny the enemy this asset, which is impossible because they probably have those co-ordinates on everyone one of their ships already. What we _can_ do is attack. First however we must capture it, decipher it and then go to its intended destination and _then_ we drop one NOVA bomb right in the mass of their fleet. Of course this would normally be a suicide mission unless we employ thousands of cruisers and hundreds of Orbital Drop Shock Troopers.

Or instead we employ the best and most effective and experienced marine unit the Human race has ever put together. You Old daggers can do this, and you will begin by strolling over to that hole and severing the head off of every non-human, eight foot sonofabitch stubborn enough to even bother putting a scratch on any one of you!" The crowd roared in reply bellowing "OOORAH!" The cheering continued until Brigadier General Matthews gestured for silence. "Operation Alien's Chariot will commence on the 30th of October. You will be split into four Platoons of sixty men each with individual targets, designations and positions. But you will all have one common objective, a common purpose…" Then the Brigadier General said something most high-ranking officers would deem inappropriate for a briefing. "TO KICK ASS!" The ensuing eruption of noise that almost deafened Bob did little to silence the Brigadier General's next words: "SEMPER FI!"

0100 hours, 27th October 2552, Fort Pelileu, White Beach, Pelileu Island, Pacific Ocean.

The marines of the 2nd Shock Trooper Company were woken up that morning unusually early for a free day. Although in Fort Pelileu there was no such thing as a free day, as training for the upcoming Operation Alien's Chariot would have a very rigid and stressed timetable. Bob got no sleep that night and so didn't feel like a new day had begun. They were all ushered into a large field illuminated by portable lights. Higher-ranking officers put them into different units; the whole operation took around ten minutes. It also kicked up hell of a lot of noise and dust, which deprived the rest of the east wing of Fort Pelileu of sleep.

The Company was organized into four smaller platoons of roughly sixty men each. Each platoon had its own designation, the first one was called Alpha Platoon, the second was named Beta Platoon, the third was called Charlie Platoon and the last, which included Bob, was designated as Delta Platoon. The platoons were then organized into three even smaller fire teams, of roughly 20 men each. They were designated in the main colours, red, blue and yellow. And then the fire teams would be organized in two even smaller squads of ten men that took the names of continents of Earth (Some were abbreviated). So that the third member of Asia Squad of Red team of Beta Platoon would be in short, known as Beta Red Asia 3. This would make communication during the battle a lot easier and efficient. Bob himself was Delta Blue Aussie five.

Then the CO's were picked. To shorten things even more, the commanders were given different names of food. Alpha Platoon was commanded by Lt. Apple, Beta Platoon was commanded by Lt. Popcorn, Charlie Platoon was commanded by Lt. Orca and Bobs Delta Platoon was commanded by Lt. Jam. The fire teams were led by commanders with their own names. Then the men who commanded the individual squads were also given their own names. Bob was designated as Delta Blue Aussie Five, his Aussie squad was led by Sergeant Boris, who was led by Blue teams CO, Sergeant Major Franklin who was in turn led by Lt. Jam.

In total the entire 2nd Shock Trooper Company was split into 24 squads of ten men each. So their would be 24 individual units during the main course of the battle as part of 12 fire teams who were as part of four platoons. This whole frenzy was to be commanded by none other than Brigadiers General Matthews who would have Lt. Major Vanessa as his second in command. The Covenant on the other hand had very low organization skills. As in most ground ops, they were led by a single high-ranking zealot elite who commanded lower ranking elites who in turn used grunts as cannon fodder.

They would probably then use sheer weight of numbers to out gun and out run the enemy. If that failed the would bring in Wraith tanks, Banshees and Scarabs. And if even that managed to fail by some spectacular fashion, the covenant would just whisk away their ground forces and glass the hell out of the enemy on the surface. This would be the case in most Human ground ops, they would kick covenant ass until while the got their own asses kicked in the orbital battle. Once the Covenant had won the space battle they would start orbital bombardment. The latter sentence described almost every Human-Covenant engagement to date. But recently some restrictions kept the covenant from glassing the surface. The main restriction was the possibility of glassing Forunner artifacts or sites.

If a ship-master was found with glassing or damaging _any_ Forunner site, whether intentionally or not, whether a small rock the size of a thumb or an underground city he would pay dearly. He would probably be humiliated in public, while grunts and jackals threw rocks and food at him. Then he would be 'purified' by immense torture. Also in public, such as skinning, stretching beyond comprehension or super-heating their organs while they watched. If they survived that ordeal, they would then be hung by their wrists, branded with the 'Symbol of Shame' and beheaded. But that wasn't the end; their body would be torn apart and fed to prisoner Jackals and savage Brutes. It was made certain that every soldier within the Covenant was told of those above consequences. _That_ had recently made the Covenant change tactics drastically, as at this era; more and more Forunner sites were found as the Covenant scoured Human colonies.

This would make Operation Alien's Chariot a lot easier for the 2nd Shock Trooper Company. Regarding the naming of the 2nd Shock Trooper Company, many presumed that they were part of the elite ODST SpecOps branch. In fact they were not, they were marines, but special trained marines. They were Shock Troopers, in other words, they were marines with the skill and tact of any other ODST, but they were marines. Green to the core. The main armament for an Old Dagger consisted of


End file.
